Not exactly the kind of expression you want on a man’s face after he’s made love to you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said, holding on to her as he sat them up, then helping her stand. He cleaned himself up and zipped his pants. “We should get back. It’s a long ride.”

Interesting. Did he have regrets about this? She didn’t. It had been . . . amazing. But she felt his withdrawal; it was more than physical. There was an emotional wall between them that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago.

“Spence.”

He picked up her boots, handed them to her, a smile on his face replacing the frown from earlier. “Fucking is fun, Shadoe. Don’t make it more than that.”

She slid into her boots, refusing to be irked by his careless dismissal of what had happened between them. “I wasn’t going to.”

She should have known better, should have realized that a man like Spence didn’t look at a woman as anything more than an object to fuck. He wasn’t in it for the emotional or the sharing, just the physical pleasure.

Well, just fine. That wasn’t going to happen again.

“Ready?” he asked.

She gave a short nod, not trusting her own emotions enough to even speak to him right now.

They climbed on the bike and headed back to the hotel. Shadoe couldn’t wait to get back to the room, to take a shower and wash the night away. How stupid could she be?

Though as she sat on the bike and the wind cleared her head, she realized Spence had shared a lot with her tonight. He’d shared his past, his history, his pain. And he’d probably not shared that with a lot of people before.

Maybe he hadn’t wanted to, but it had slipped out. And maybe that’s what had irritated him. Did he think she’d feel sorry for him now that she knew? Or that she’d pity him?

She didn’t know what to think, or what to do about Spence. Figuring out what went on in a man’s mind was nearly impossible. But she’d admittedly felt something for him tonight, and it wasn’t pity.

She wasn’t the type to give up easily. But getting involved with a mission partner spelled disaster. They both needed clear heads and focus for this mission. She had to concentrate on finding the rogue agent, and get through this whole stripper act. Wasn’t that enough to handle without getting involved with her partner?

Yet Spence intrigued her. There were both hard and soft sides to him that begged further exploration.

Damn, this was a mess and a half, wasn’t it?

She had some thinking to do.

NINE

SPENCE RAN HIS FINGERS THROUGH HIS HAIR AND PACED THE hotel room, feeling more and more like he walked a cage. Sharing this space with Shadoe was going to be torture, especially after what had happened between them last night.

He spit out a curse and pushed through the double doors leading outside to the balcony, hoping the morning air would clear his head. No such luck. It was sticky hot outside already and he knew he’d find no clarity there.

What the hell had he been thinking? Other than Grange and the other Wild Riders, he’d never told anyone about his past. The only reason the other guys knew about it was because Grange insisted they all talk about what had happened to them—he hadn’t had a choice but to comply if he wanted to stay in the group. And that talk had been a long time ago, when they were all still kids. Old wounds Grange had made them open up, talk over, and then never discuss again.

So why now, and why with Shadoe, a woman he barely knew? He’d wanted her to talk about herself. His intent was to find out about her, gain some insight. Instead, he still didn’t know jack about her or her relationship with her father. But she knew everything about him, since for some reason he’d started talking and couldn’t seem to shut his mouth.

Goddammit. He hadn’t thought about Trevor in years, had tried to bury that part of his life, his past, all the ugliness. His focus was on looking ahead, never behind.

Maybe it was because they’d ended up back here where he’d grown up, and that had dredged up the memories. Hell if he knew. He wasn’t the type to psychoanalyze, to think about the whys of things. He lived in the now, never in the then. You couldn’t go back and change what had happened; you could only live your life going forward, so there was never any sense in taking a walk back into the past.

He sure had last night though, hadn’t he? And Shadoe had listened, asked questions, never found fault with what he’d done. She thought of him as some kind of goddamned hero.

He snorted. He was no hero. Trevor was the hero.

His gut tightened at the thought of his brother. He wondered where Trevor was now. Was he successful? He’d always wanted to know, but never allowed himself to find out. What would be the point? He wouldn’t contact him . . . couldn’t. He’d wanted the past dead and buried, wanted to cut out that part of his life and forget it had ever existed.

Until he’d unearthed it last night, shared it with Shadoe. That had made it real again. Raw.

He looked over the balcony railing at the street cleaners below, systematically washing away the remnants of last night’s revelry from Bourbon Street. He wished he could do the same thing.

He dragged his hand through the short clips of his hair. God, he was so f**king stupid. The whole night had been like that. Shadoe had gotten under his skin from the first night he’d met her, and that never happened with women.

Women were fun. They smelled good, he enjoyed f**king them and spending time with them, but that’s where it ended. He didn’t do relationships. He didn’t do the whole talk-and-get-to-know-you kind of thing. He partied with them and had sex with them. He purposefully chose the kind of women who wouldn’t get attached.

Shadoe wasn’t that kind of woman. Even worse, she was his partner on this case.

So what the hell had he been thinking pouncing on her like an animal in heat last night? To shut her up about thinking he was some kind of hero? Or had he done it for some other reason?

He didn’t even want to ponder what he felt. He didn’t do feelings any more than he did relationships. He wasn’t the kind of guy to dissect that shit. He liked women, he f**ked them, then he moved on. Any sense of a woman wanting more than that and he was history.

Fortunately, when they got back to the room last night, Shadoe was in no more of a mood to talk than he was. She went right into the bathroom, took a shower, and climbed into bed without a word. He did the same. It worked out perfectly. He was afraid she’d want to talk about what had happened between them.

She hadn’t.

She was probably pissed at him because he blew her off right after he f**ked her. Too bad. She’d have to get used to it, because that’s who he was.

Not that he was going to have sex with her again. That had been a huge mistake and wasn’t going to be repeated. It was time to concentrate on their job and not on each other.

But man, she’d been sweet last night. Hot, sexy, she fit him perfectly and matched his passion and needs.

His c**k twitched at the memory of her coming apart for him time after time. She was a mix of innocence and seductress in one beautiful package. And he hadn’t gotten her na**d, hadn’t been able to touch her skin and taste her all over. He’d wager he’d be able to taste the sweetness in her.

He cursed his growing erection and his wayward thoughts, refusing to go down that road. It wasn’t going to happen again.

“Good morning.”

He half turned to see her standing in the doorway wearing a pair of soft gray shorts and a cotton tank top. Her hair was mussed from sleep, her cheeks rosy, and her eyes barely open.

She couldn’t be any sexier than if she were standing there stark na**d.

She made his dick hard and his balls quiver. He wanted to scoop her up and take her back to bed and f**k her for about five hours until he stopped thinking about her.

Instead, he turned away. “Mornin’.”

She moved out onto the balcony alongside him and laid her hands on the railing. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes, which gave him time to gaze at her out of the corner of his eyes. The light morning wind blew her hair across her cheek. She didn’t bother to pull it away. He wanted to. Then he wanted to kiss that soft spot on her neck. And the wind kept lifting the short tank top, giving him a peek at her flat stomach. He wanted to kiss that, too.

He also wanted to groan and run away so he wouldn’t have to stand next to her, inhale the scent of her soap and shampoo. Want her.

This was stupid. There were all kinds of women out there he could have without much effort, women who could easily help him take his mind off Shadoe. She was nothing special.

“I’m sorry I pried into your personal life last night,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I had no right and it made you uncomfortable. I won’t do it again.”

She had made a half turn, her hip now leaning against the railing so she faced him. He had no choice but to do the same, otherwise he’d look like a coward.

“No big deal. Don’t worry about it.”

Her lips lifted. “You can ask me anything you want about my past, my childhood, my father, and I’ll answer it. I figure I owe you that much.”

Yeah, since he’d spilled his guts to her last night. “I don’t need to know anything about your personal life.”

Her half-smile died. “But last night you said—”

“Yeah, well, last night was last night. Today we need to work on the mission, and start focusing on that.”

“Don’t we need to get to know each other so we can work well together?”

He slanted a wry grin in her direction. “Darlin’, I don’t need to know you at all to work with you. I’ve already seen you na**d shaking your tits up on the stage. What more do I need?”

He pushed off the balcony and walked through the doors into the room, feeling ten times the as**ole for what he’d just said. But if she hated him for it, good. It would make things easier.

On him, anyway.

He heard the balcony doors shut and Shadoe went into the bathroom. He kept his back to her, deciding the less time he spent looking at her, the better. She came out a short while later dressed in capri pants and a skimpy tank top. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore no makeup.

“So what’s the plan for the day?” she asked, her persona all business now.

“I thought we’d grab some breakfast and play tourist today.”

She arched a brow. “This is hardly a vacation.”

“Yeah, I know that. But we also know where the drug deals have gone down, so I want to do some strolling down at the riverfront.”

She nodded. “Ah. Now I understand.”

“Pretty woman like you should be able to start a conversation with lots of guys. And if nothing else, you can hand out your business cards and say you’re there to drum up potential customers for your show tonight.”

She grinned. “Perfect. After all, I am a new headliner and I want to draw a crowd. So we’ll have a good reason to be out and about mingling where the men are just in case we’re asked. You’re smart.”

“Nah. I just give good bullshit.”

She laughed, so she must have gotten over his insult. Not that it mattered whether she did or not. He didn’t care what she thought of him. Many women thought he was an asshole.

They were usually right.

“I need to head down to the club after breakfast and before we go sightseeing. I have rehearsal.”

“How long will that take?”

“About an hour or so. I want to get a feel for their walkway and stage. I want to practice my act and work with the deejay on music.”

“Fine. We’ll head there after we eat, and then to the docks after.”

“What about Pax and AJ?”

“They have their own assignments, but they’ll be at the club tonight. I don’t want anyone to see us with them. As far as anyone’s concerned, they’re just customers. You can mingle with them at the club, but no more than you would any other guy there.”

“Okay.”

SHADOE TRIED TO KEEP HER HEAD INVOLVED IN THE BUSINESS OF her job. Easier that way and less emotional. She and Spence went downstairs and had breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant. Shadoe had already arranged to have the hotel send all her gear to the club, so they rode over there. The club wouldn’t open until four in the afternoon, so she knocked on the door. It was opened by an older man with a balding head of silvery hair.

“I’m Desi, the headliner,” she said.

He nodded and pushed the door all the way open for her and Spence to enter, then pulled it shut and locked it behind them.

Without the lights on, the club looked different. There really wasn’t much to it in the daytime, without the bouncing light and blaring music. The tables were empty; the place was clean and practically bare. The walls were dark, the carpet a deep, rich burgundy. There were a few girls on stage dancing and pulling off their clothes, but they didn’t look like pros. The music was low enough that she could hear herself think. She caught sight of Brandon seated at the front of the stage. She headed in his direction.

“Hey,” he said with a smile. “Glad to see you.”

“I’m here to rehearse and get the layout of the stage, if that’s okay.”

He nodded. “I’m auditioning a few new girls for midweek replacement. Give me about fifteen and I’ll be finished up here.”

“No problem. It’ll take me that long to get ready.”

Brandon pointed down a hallway on the left. “Changing room is through that door. Ariele is in since she wanted to work on a new act. She’ll help you find a locker for your things. The hotel delivered them about an hour ago.”